


Square Peg, Round Hole

by postapocalyptic_cryptic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, CT-7567 | Rex is a Good Bro, Crosshair is Aggressive tm, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Galactic Expansion is just space monopoly, Gen, Here's How The Bad Batch Could Still Be Good, Hunter is under so much stress all the time, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Episode: s07e04 Unfinished Business, Sibling Bonding, The inherent trauma of growing up on Kamino, Trauma, Triggers, Wrecker is a large sweetheart, friendly reminder that the bad batch is like ten, tech is trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28105815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postapocalyptic_cryptic/pseuds/postapocalyptic_cryptic
Summary: Growing up, the Bad Batch spent a lot of time watching their backs. After all, they wouldn't be the first defective clones to be thrown out. Rex accidentally walks right into this particular trauma mess.Hunter really doesn't like the word "decommissioned."
Relationships: Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) & CT-7567 | Rex, Hunter & Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62





	Square Peg, Round Hole

The ride back from Skako Minor is shockingly uneventful. Echo had gone to rest in the little medical bay on the Batch’s ship, leaving Rex to make conversation with Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, and Tech. Well, with Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech. Crosshair stays largely silent, brooding in the corner and watching their conversation unfold.

The conversation itself is surprisingly, not that awkward. After a few minutes of stilted, prepackaged questions and answers, Rex falls into the same rhythm he would with any of his  _ vode,  _ laughing and sharing stories and talking about the latest, well,  _ anything.  _ The Bad Batch is surprisingly good company, even if Tech interrupts and Wrecker gets loud and Hunter sometimes does this weird thousand-yard stare when he’s concentrating. And, you know, Crosshair refuses to talk. 

“No way,” Rex says. “I can’t believe you got a chance to work with those things. I thought the  _ Interstellar  _ models had all been decommissioned ten years ago.” Rex grins, expecting Wrecker to explain how he’d gotten a hold of the guns, but the conversation suddenly falls flat. Everyone’s eyes flick to Hunter. In the corner, Crosshair stiffens. “What?” Rex asks. “What did I say?” 

“Nothing,” Hunter says firmly, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Nothing’s wrong.” The last part seemed directed at the rest of the Batch rather than Rex. Rex hesitates, unwilling to keep talking after such a blatant indication of wrongdoing, and Hunter scoffs. “I’m  _ fine.  _ Just keep tal-talking.” He’s clearly shooting for gruff and dismissive, but misses the mark when his voice hitches.

Tech stands, walking over to Hunter’s spot by the wall. “Hunter, what do you need?” he asks, voice calm in the face of Hunter’s mounting distress. 

“I don’t, I don’t, I don’t  _ need  _ anything,” he insists. “I’m fi-fi- _ fine!”  _ He loses whatever tenuous semblance of control he had with that last word, barely stable breathing devolving into hitching, desperate jerks. He’s panicking. Why, Rex isn’t sure, but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen and dealt with before. 

Tech takes Hunter by the shoulders and guides him to the ground, letting him draw his knees up to his chest. “Put your arms above your head,” he says. “Let yourself breathe.” 

Hunter sounds like he’s choking with the effort of holding back his hyperventilation. “‘M fine, ‘m fine, ‘m fine, ‘m fine…”

“I know,” Tech assures him. “But you need to breathe.” 

“Where’s Wrecker?” Hunter manages between aborted breaths. “Got Tech, where’s Wrecker?”

“Here,” Wrecker booms, squatting down beside Hunter and Tech. “I’m here, big brother.” 

With that, Hunter’s remaining control shatters and he spirals, surrendering to the frantic pace of his lungs and the awful sobs working their way up his throat. Tech guides his head down between his knees and keeps his hand on his back, rubbing slowly. Wrecker tries to emulate him, but stops when he knocks Hunter’s breath out of him. Hunter manages a shaky laugh at that, but then it’s right back to hyperventilating. 

“We’re all right here,” Tech reassures him. “All of us. Everything’s fine right now.” 

Rex wishes he could sink into the wall, or maybe become invisible. 

Across the room, Crosshair’s left his little corner. Now, he’s standing between Hunter and the door, eyes darting around the room too fast for Rex to follow. Then, he fixates on Rex, staring a hole right through him. He points to the door. Rex turns and opens it, wasting no time in leaving for the sleeping quarters. 

Crosshair follows him, shutting the door behind him and pointing to Rex’s bed. “Sit.” Rex sits. “Listen.” Rex is listening. “We’re called the Bad Batch for a reason, got it? Nobody on Kamino wanted to keep us until they realized they could do something with us, Wrecker and Tech especially.” That made sense. Suddenly, a word and its meaning click in Rex’s mind and he feels a little sick. He knows where this is going. “Hunter spent a long time when we were kids trying to make sure we didn’t disappear during the night.” 

Rex remembers decommissioning. Rex remembers the rumors. Rex remembers waking up to one less brother, one less voice at meals, one less friend to spar with, and wondering who would be next. So often, there was no way to know who might be defective. To  _ know,  _ to have your worth discussed in front of you and be told that, at any moment, you might be deemed more trouble than you’re worth and sent off to die? Force, Rex can only imagine.

Crosshair nods as if he can see Rex’s very thoughts. “Don’t say ‘decommissioned’ around Hunter. Don’t talk about being defective. Don’t  _ speak  _ of reprogramming. Don’t ever come between one of us and the others. Am I clear, Captain?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” Crosshair stands and makes for the door. It is very clear that Rex is expected to stay in the sleeping quarters until told otherwise. 

* * *

‘Otherwise’ comes when Tech, tired-eyed and with his hair standing on end, enters the room maybe half an hour later to get a water bottle. His glasses are crooked and he fixes them as he turns to Rex. 

“You can come back in now,” he says. “I know Crosshair banished you, but… yes, you can come back in now.” 

Rex follows Tech back into the room, still unsure of his place within it. Inside, Crosshair’s returned to his brooding corner and Wrecker is still sitting by the wall. At first, Rex can’t find Hunter, but he then realizes that Wrecker’s pulled him into his lap and has his arms wrapped around him in a way that can’t possibly be comfortable for Hunter. Despite this, Hunter is allowing himself to be used as a teddy bear, leaning against Wrecker’s arm and following Tech’s progress across the room with hazy, half-lidded eyes. He looks awful, just the way Rex always feels after a good panic attack. Tech hands him the water and Hunter taps at Wrecker’s arm until he’s let up enough to sip at it slowly. Tech settles down next to Wrecker, Crosshair keeps up his intense vigilance, and none of them make any move to talk. Rex reclaims his chair and pretends to read something on his datapad. 

A few minutes later, when he’s half-finished the water, Hunter croaks, “Does anyone want to play Galactic Expansion?” 

Crosshair and Rex groan in unison. “ _ Galatic Expansion?”  _ Rex demands. “You want to play the least relaxing game in the universe  _ now?”  _

“He always does this,” Crosshair adds. 

Tech stands up, going for the bin under the table. “Hey, I think it’s amusing.” 

“Because you always win,” Wrecker grouses. “It’s not fair.” 

Through numerous continued protests, Tech lays the game out on the floor, gesturing for everyone to come around. Crosshair sits cross-legged on one side and Rex takes another, stretching out on his stomach as Tech deals the money. Wrecker drags Hunter over, keeping him tucked close to his side as they choose their game pieces.

The game devolves into complete and utter chaos in less than fifteen minutes. It changes to quieter chaos when, ten minutes after that, Hunter falls asleep, but quieter chaos is still chaos. Tech somehow buys half the properties, Wrecker thinks he can cheat surreptitiously, Crosshair likes to mortgage things, and Rex is  _ sure  _ his dice are weighted, but Hunter was right. They do have fun. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I was scouring Wookiepedia for a game for them to play and Galactic Expansion seemed like the most chaos-inducing.  
> Don't be afraid to hit me up down below or on tumblr @postapocalyptic-cryptic-fic or @chiafett and have a lovely day!


End file.
